Child Of The Revolution
by Snow Whitex Prince Charming
Summary: In the winter of 1817 Eponine found a baby alone in the snow... and everything changed. Guinevere grew up raised by the l'ABC, but what's more important? Family? Or country?
1. Chapter 1

The cold winter wind cut through Éponine like a knife. _Why is it so damn cold?_ Éponine wondered, as she shuffled to the café Musain. She was almost inside when she heard a cry whirling around Éponine gawked at the sight she saw, a small baby no more than a few hours old, poorly swaddled in a thread bare blanket lay in a snow bank crying.

"Oh you poor thing!" Éponine cried grabbing up the shivering, shrieking little soul. The poor babe was near death and it's mother was no were in sight! As fast as she could Éponine ran into the café screaming;

"I need help! I need help!"

"Éponine?" Marius looked up from the book across the room the other students followed suit.

"I found the poor thing out in the snow!" Éponine cried as Joly and Combeferre came over to see what was wrong.

"We need to warm it up!" Joly said as Combeferre led her over to a small wood stove in the corner.

"It looks so small…" Marius said peering down at the squalling child in Éponine's arms, Enjolras came over and looked down at Éponine and the child.

"Where's its mother?" He asked

"No where to be found." Éponine said rocking the baby,

"We need to check it out, make sure its ok, healthy. Éponine will you keep it calm?" Combeferre asked Éponine nodded. Kneeling close together the two med students and the gamine got to work. As they unwraps the blanket the babe began to cry.

"Shush little one it's all right." Éponine soothed gently

"Well it is a girl." Joly said as they wrapped the baby back up.

"A beautiful little girl" Éponine smiled rocking the baby soothingly.

"What should we call her?" Marius asked

"You intend to keep her?" Enjolras cried

"Well we can't put her out on the street!" Éponine snapped

"I like Emile!" Grantaire slurred

"Anna!"

"Hanna!"

"Gwen!" Éponine's eyes lit up.

"Gwen… how about Guinevere?"

"You are all crazy!" Enjolras said

"Little Guinevere, I like it." Marius said taking Guinevere from Éponine. But he was holding her wrong and the baby began to cry. Marius panicked. Finally Enjolras caved,

"Oh give her to me you're holding her wrong!" Enjolras said taking the baby from him

"You need to support her head." Enjolras explained, the moment he took her Guinevere quieted.

"There." Enjolras said looking down at the little girl with big blue, trusting eyes. _Who could just throw this little one away?_ He wondered suddenly the infants hand escaped the blanket and grabbed Enjolras' finger with the strange strength newborns have. And that was it, little Guinevere stole the marble man's heart.

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	2. Chapter 2

The warm breezes of spring whispered throughout the crowded upper room of the café Musain. The room was packed from wall to wall. And every student was excited. Yes, in the spring of 1818 life was kind to the l'ABC. Enjolras stood on a table giving an impassioned speech, one of his best if he did say so himself. (And he did)

"In the words of Patrick Henry. 'It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace- but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!'" The crowd erupted in cheers of support. Pierced only by the high-pitched squeal of a small child. Enjolras searched the crowd and spotted Éponine among the crush of people, with Guinevere in her arms. Since day one, Éponine had stepped in as Guinevere's mother. From the moment she arrived each day Guinevere was in her arms. Enjolras was beginning to wonder if the child would ever learn to walk. Enjolras chuckled to himself as Éponine whispered something in the six-month-old blue-eyed, dark-haired miracle's ear and pointed to him. Guinevere squealed again inciting chuckles from the students around them. Enjolras got down from his perch atop a table and started to mingle among the students. He was deep in conversation with Courfeyrac over recruiting new members and possibly finding a bigger space to house them. When he heard Eponine's voice float through the crowd.

"Go on Gwen, it's just Uncle Marius." Enjolras rolled his eyes; Guinevere never had liked Marius very much.

"Ten francs says Gwen starts crying," Grantaire slurred

"That's not a bet. That's a certainty." Courfeyrac said

"I don't understand it, she gets on better with Grantaire than Marius!" Feuilly said shaking his head.

"She gets on better with anyone than Marius!" Courfeyrac said, as if on cue Guinevere started to scream.

"And that's my cue," Enjolras muttered as he hurried towards the shrieking. Marius stood awkwardly with the screaming Guinevere in his arms, while Éponine stood by, red-faced. Enjolras held out his arms,

"Here let me" all too eagerly Marius passed the red-faced child to Enjolras. Just like that first night six months prior Guinevere quieted the moment she was in the rebel leader's arms.

"There's a good girl," Enjolras smiled pressing a kiss to the child's temple. The little girl giggled and rested her head in the crook of Enjolras' neck, babbling quietly to herself in the long forgotten language of infants. The redness was fading from Éponine's features as she watched the pair, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

"It's almost time for her nap" Éponine whispered, softly Enjolras began to hum Frère Jacques. His mother had once sang it to him in some faraway nursery. Now, her hummed it for Guinevere. The child rubbed her eyes and snuggled closer to her protector.

"Papa." She murmured sleepily closing her eyes. Enjolras was stunned. Surely Guinevere hadn't just said her first word! He looked to Éponine and Marius who stood slack-jawed.

"I've been trying to get her to talk for months!" Éponine whisper shouted, Enjolras had to smile silently; Enjolras sank down in a chair with Guinevere in his arms. _How many times have I done this?_ He wondered in the last six months he had lived for two things, Patria. And Guinevere. Guinevere, the little earthbound angel in his arms, could he be her father? Did he know how? His own father had been absent in his life. What could he possibly do though? Gwen got on with everyone; pardon Marius and Grantaire when he was smashed out of his mind. But it had been him she had called Papa. _If I can rally the people I can be a father,_ he decided. And that's how Enjolras became Papa to one special little girl.

_**Ok so I don't get anymore flack on the date, I did mean 1817. AND yes, I know it's a stretch to say that all the l'ABC knew each other when they were 15, 16 years old. OK! I admit it's IMPOSSIBLE! BUT Guinevere would be really young in 1832 and what three-year old shows signs of rebellion at three!? So PLEASE just go with it. And please REVIEW!**_


	3. Chapter 3

Enjolras could hear them coming from up the street, it wasn't hard to do, Éponine calling after the over energetic three-year old. And the little girl giggling at her mother's distress. Enjolras chuckled to himself Guinevere was a ball of energy that couldn't be tamed. Since the day she had said her first word, she hadn't stopped talking. Guinevere now spoke in full advanced, unbroken sentences. She could also read and write her name. Guinevere was an intelligent little girl, and the L'ABC couldn't be prouder.

"Papa!" Guinevere came running into his arms, a wide grin on her face.

"There she is! Where have you been _Mon petit ange_?" Enjolras smiled,

"With Mama!" The little girl giggled pointing to Éponine

"Thank you Enjolras, I have to go to work." Éponine said kissing Guinevere's cheek.

"Be good." And with that she was gone, Enjolras shook his head, he didn't know what "work" Éponine did on nights when he watched Guinevere but he had a pretty good idea.

"Let's go inside" he said carrying Guinevere upstairs,

"I got a present for you Gwen" Enjolras smiled. A smile lit Guinevere's face

"What is it?" Reaching into his pocket, Enjolras pulled out a cockade of ribbons. The red, white and blue cockade matched the one that all the boys wore on the waistcoats. Guinevere smiled brightly

"I can be a _les ami_?" She asked taking the pin

"Just like you and Mama?" Enjolras smiled

"Of coarse you can," he said. Guinevere's face lit up

"I'm going to help!" She grinned Enjolras could practically see the stars in the little girl's eyes.

"You are a little young yet to be fighting wars." Enjolras said, Guinevere pouted,

"When you are a little older we'll discuss you going into battle" Enjolras promised. Though he knew, and everyone else would agree, they would do everything in their power to keep Guinevere away from a fight.

"Here let me help," Enjolras said pinning the cockade to Guinevere's dress.

"We wear the cockade over our hearts," Enjolras explained as he pinned the cockade into place.

"Why?" Guinevere asked

"Because we love our country, our patria." Enjolras said

"Patria…" Guinevere tried the new word out on her tongue, "What does that mean? Its pretty."

"It's another name for our Motherland. For France" Guinevere's eyes lit up,

"I love Patria." She said

"Don't you Papa?" Enjolras smiled, _if only she knew…_

"Yes, I love Patria too. But, there is one thing I love more." Guinevere frowned like she couldn't imagine loving anything more than their country.

"What?" She asked, Enjolras pulled the little girl into his arms and kissed her crown.

"You, _mon petit ange_" he whispered

"Mama says you're made out of marble, but I don't think you are." Guinevere said after a beat. Enjolras smirked

"What do you think I'm made out of?" He asked

"I think you are made out of goodness, but you can be terrible." Enjolras was surprised to hear such speech from a child; _maybe she does pay attention during my speeches._ He thought.

* * *

Later that night Enjolras looked up from a draft of a speech he was writing, he watched amused as Courfeyrac chased Guinevere around the café, Enjolras had learned in life that one could learn a lot just by sitting back and listening. Silently, the leader sat back and watched the pair. Guinevere squealed as Courfeyrac lunged after her,  
"I'm going to get you!" Courfeyrac chuckled. Guinevere giggled and stuck her tongue out at Courfeyrac.  
"You can't catch me!" She said Courfeyrac chuckled and lunged at the little girl who screamed and ran over to Enjolras.  
"Papa! Papa save me!" She cried hiding behind Enjolras' legs.  
"Oh no you don't, you got yourself into this mess you save yourself," Enjolras teased.  
"But Papa!" Guinevere whined  
"Sorry _mon petit ange_" Enjolras shrugged Guinevere pouted at him as he returned to his speech. It wasn't long until he was pulled out of his work once more, this time by Guinevere screaming as Courfeyrac tickled her. Finally the students started to file out, there was still work to do but Enjolras figured it would have to wait, it was getting late and Éponine was going to kill him if she found out he let Guinevere stay up so late. Carefully picking up the tired little girl and saying his goodbyes to the few remaining students Enjolras carried Guinevere back to his garret. He carefully tucked Guinevere in and kissed her forehead.

"_Bonne nuit __petit ange._ I love you" He whispered before tiptoeing out of the room to his study, he was at the door when he heard a small voice say,

"Papa, love you more."

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	4. Chapter 4

_Twelve years later_

"Gavroche wait up!" Guinevere yelled after the blonde haired gamin as they raced down a grand boulevard, dodging the crowds of strolling bourgeoisie and beggars, weaving in and out of the lines of carriages attempting to make their way in either direction. The traffic this warm morning in June was virtually at a standstill, this lended Gavroche a platform as he leapt from coach to coach, while Guinevere tried to keep up. As they went, the poor on the pavements called out to the stony-faced rich in their golden high-sprung glory.

"Look down and see the beggars at your feet! Look down and show some mercy if you can! Look down and see the sweepings of the street! Look down, look down, upon your fellow-man!" The fine ladies and grand gentlemen in the carriages averted their eyes, or raised the blinds of their carriage windows to shut out the sight of the losers of their world. Gavroche, bounding over their heads, evading the swipes of liveried footmen, landed on the running board of one particularly grand carriage and begged and taunted the rich occupant.

"'Ow do you do? My name's Gavroche! These are my people, 'ere's my patch. Not much to look at - nothing posh! Nothing that you'd call up to scratch. This is my school, my 'igh society! 'Ere in the slums of St Michel. We live on crumbs of 'umble piety Tough on the teeth - but what the 'ell! Think you're poor? Think you're free? Follow me! Follow me!"

"Look down and show some mercy if you can! Look down, look down, upon your fellow-man!" Guinevere was still running with Gavroche as he hopped onto the back of another very grand carriage pulling her up after him, the traffic now was moving at last, the other children ran panting after the carriage to hear the twelve-year old's political lecture.

"There was a time we killed the King We tried to change the world too fast. Now we have got another King, 'e is no better than the last. This is the land that fought for liberty, now when we fight we fight for bread! 'ere is the thing about equality everyone's equal when they're dead. Take your place! Take your chance! _Vive la France! Vive la France!_" The carriage had reached an arch into a courtyard where a crowd of a couple of hundred was gathered outside a house of sickness. The carriage stopped as its occupant wanted to watch what was going on. The street was padded with straw. Many eyes gazed up at the draped windows. People crossed themselves. A priest was seen hurrying into the house, accompanied by two altar boys.

"You're late" Courfeyrac said as Gavroche jumped onto his back,

"I'm aware of that" Guinevere said

"And your mother's looking for you." Guinevere swore under her breath,

"Don't swear!" Courfeyrac scolded

"Don't give me a reason to swear" Guinevere replied running to find her mother in the crowd. She found her watching Enjolras give an impassioned speech with Marius, her mother's eyes were fixed longingly on Marius.

"Maman!" Guinevere cried as she reached her mother,

"There you are! Where have you been?" Her mother demeaned hugging her close.

"Chasing Gavroche around the city" her mother fixed her with a stern look,

"I didn't break any laws I swear!" Her mother opened her mouth to respond when Enjolras' voice cut her off.

"Where are the leaders of the land? Where are the swells who run this show?"

"Only one man, General Lamarque speaks for the people here below!" Marius cried he looked towards Lamarque's house behind him.

"Lamarque is ill and fading fast won't last a week out, so they say. With all the anger in the land, How long before the Judgment Day? Before we cut the fat ones down to size? Before the barricades arise?" Mounted Police rode in to break up the crowd. The crowd broke up. The students shouted to the crowd:

"Tomorrow we will return!"

"Tell everyone you know" called Marius

"We will show them! Lamarque is the only leader on our side! We have a right to pray for Lamarque!"

"We need more people, then the police will not dare ride against us!" Said Joly

"Go!" Her mother cried,

"Go to the Musain, I'll be there soon."

"But Maman!" Guinevere tried to protest,

"Go!" Her mother insisted before running after Marius. With a sigh Guinevere headed for the Musain.

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	5. Chapter 5

When she arrived her father was deep in conversation with Combeferre, knowing better than to interrupt, Guinevere found a quiet corner to curl up in, Jehan spotted her and came over and smiled,  
"Good afternoon, Mademoiselle Guinevere. You look beautiful as always." Guinevere blushed  
"Thank you, Jehan." Guinevere muttered, Jehan was the sweetest of the men she'd grown up calling 'uncle'. Coufeyrac was the 'center'. Always happy, keeping everyone together, Combeferre played the role of teacher often spending hours thinking up exercises for Guinevere to do. Grantaire was cynical, sarcastic, and almost always drunk. Feuilly was the one who had entertained her with stories of Poland when she'd been a child. Bahorel had been the one who had secretly taught her to fight and defend herself on the streets. Bossuet was the one who could always cheer her up with the humorous stories of his misfortunes, even on her worst days. Joly was the doctor who'd fixed up her arm after she'd broken it when she was ten. Guinevere detested Marius, and always had. And Gavroche, being her real uncle, was her friend and playmate. He was suspected of teaching her how to pickpocket, all though no one could confirm nor deny it. This is how it had always been, and as far as Guinevere could see that would be the way it would stay. Jehan smiled warmly at her,  
"I have a present for you." Jehan said delightedly,  
"A present? What's the occasion?" Guinevere asked, her birthday wasn't for months yet.  
"Do I need an occasion to give my favorite niece a present?" Jehan laughed, he was teasing her, and Guinevere didn't like it when people teased her.  
"Uncle Jehan, I'm your _only_ niece," Guinevere sighed,  
"Quiet right," Jehan chuckled ruffling her hair and pressing a leather-bound book into her hands. Guinevere's eyes lit up.  
"A book of Shakespeare's sonnets!" Guinevere cried, Jehan smiled warmly,  
"I knew you wanted to read them so I got you your own copy." Guinevere threw her arms around Jehan's neck.  
"Thank you, Jehan!" Just then they both heard Enjolras call out,  
"Guinevere!" Guinevere jumped and quickly hid the book, "Have you seen your mother?" Her father asked when he reached her.  
"She's with Marius, they should be along shortly." Guinevere said, her father muttered something under his breath.  
"Well when she gets here, tell her I need to speak to her." Guinevere nodded,  
"Yes, Sir." Guinevere said, she hadn't called her father Papa since she was ten; their relationship had changed into something horribly stiff and formal. And it made Guinevere sad to remember what it was like before. Once he was gone Jehan tried to cheer her up but it was useless. Finally Jehan gave up and went to talk to Combeferre, careful to keep her new book hidden Guinevere read a couple of sonnets, she knew her father probably wouldn't approve. She hadn't even realized it was getting late until she looked up and saw how dark it had gotten outside. "Good book?" Guinevere jumped at the sudden sound of Grantaire's voice, and quickly scrambled to hide the book. The drunk chuckled,  
"What do you want, Grantaire?" Guinevere asked as the wild-eyed man took another swig from his wine bottle.  
"Why would I want something?" The drunk slurred,  
"Because you never speak to me unless you want something." Guinevere said dryly, she did not care for the drunk's games. The drunk chuckled,  
"You know me too well, _cariad_."  
"Speak French you drunken fool!" Guinevere hissed, while her father and uncles had become fluent or at least learned a few phrases in languages such as German or even English, Grantaire only knew a few words in Welsh. It had been an odd choice and even at that it was only a few words not nearly enough to form a sentence, but it was enough to charm the young gamines he pursued. Guinevere knew very little Welsh herself, but had learned enough to roughly translate the word to darling. "And I am not your darling. Now what do you want?"  
"I have a message for you to deliver-" Grantaire never finished because Enjolras' voice cut him off.  
"R, leave Guinevere alone!" The drunk sighed and did as the group's great leader said. Guinevere was relieved, Grantaire was almost always drunk and she herself detested drunks, she had seen her own grandfather turned monster by drink and hated the stuff passionately. Suddenly, Marius arrived at the café Musain. Guinevere zeroed in on him in search of her mother,  
"Well, Courfeyrac! Do we have all the guns? Joly, Prouvaire! Our time is running short!" Guinevere heard her father say.  
"Students, workers, everyone! There's a river on the run! Like the flowing of the tide, Paris is coming to our side!" Courfeyrac reported  
"Enjolras! At Notre Dame the sections are prepared!" Combeferre piped up.  
"At Rue du Bac they're straining at the leash!"  
"Grantaire, put the bottle down!" Enjolras snapped at the drunk. "Did we get the guns we need?"  
"Give me brandy on my breath and I'll breathe them all to death!" Roared Grantaire. Then Enjolras embarked on one of his epic speeches, her task of looking for her mother abandoned, Guinevere sat at rapt attention.  
"The time is near... So near it's stirring the blood in their veins. And yet beware! Don't let the wine go to your brains. For the army we fight is a dangerous foe with the men and the arms that we never can match. It is easy to sit here and swat them like flies but the National Guard will be harder to catch. We need a sign to rally the people to call them to arms to bring them in line!" Joly turned and went over to Marius at the back, a faraway look on his face.  
"Marius, wake up! What's wrong today? You look as if you've seen a ghost."  
"Some wine, and say what's going on!" Roared Grantaire, her interest peaked, Guinevere snuck closer to the table as they all sat.  
"A ghost, you say? A ghost maybe! She was like a ghost to me one minute there - then she was gone!" Marius said wistfully, Grantaire laughed loudly.  
"I am agog! I am aghast! Is Marius in love at last? I've never heard him 'ooh' and 'aah'. You talk of battles to be won and here he comes like Don Juan! It is better than an opera!" They burst into laughter. But Enjolras wasn't smiling.  
"It is time for us all to decide who we are. Do we fight for the right to a night at the opera now? Have you asked yourselves what's the price you might pay? Is this simply a game for rich young boys to play? The colors of the world are changing day-by-day Red - the blood of angry men! Black - the dark of ages past! Red - a world about to dawn! Black - the night that ends at last!" Enjolras preached still unaware his daughter was listening.  
"Had you seen her today you might know how it feels to be struck to the bone by a moment of breathless delight!" Marius protested, Enjolras and Guinevere rolled their eyes silently in tandem. "Had you been there today you might also have known how the world may be changed in just one burst of light and what was right seems wrong And what was wrong seems right!" Cried Marius  
"Red!"  
"I feel my soul on fire!"  
"Black!"  
"My world if she's not there!"  
"Red!"  
"The color of desire!"  
"Black!"  
"The color of despair!" Enjolras frowned  
"Marius, you're no longer a child I do not doubt you mean it well but now there is a higher call! Who cares about your lonely soul? We strive towards a larger goal our little lives don't count at all! Red!"  
"The blood of angry men!" Shouted the students  
"Black!"  
"The dark of ages past!"  
"Red - a world about to dawn! Black - the night that ends at last!" there was a scuffle at the door –as Gavroche struggled with the barman. Courfeyrac let him through.  
"Listen! Listen to me!" Cried the boy  
"Listen, everybody!" Shouted Courfeyrac  
"General Lamarque is dead!" Gavroche announced, the room fell as silent as a tomb. Enjolras turned sadly to his companions.  
"Lamarque is dead... Lamarque... His death is the hour of fate. The people's man... His death is the sign we await! On his funeral day they will honor his name with the light of rebellion ablaze in their eyes. From their candles of grief we will kindle our flame. On the tomb of Lamarque shall our barricades rise! The time is here! Let us welcome it gladly with courage and cheer!"  
"Let us take to the street with no doubt in our hearts" Shouted Feuilly.  
"But a jubilant shout!" Cried Combeferre,  
"They will come one and all! They will come when we call!" As the students buzzed about the revolution with new found excitement Éponine entered wanting to talk to Marius. Guinevere spotted her mother and cried out,  
"Maman!" Enjolras and Marius spotted her at almost the same moment. Marius saw her and raced down the stairs, she was about to follow when Enjolras seized her arm.  
"Éponine, I must speak with you," Guinevere heard her father say urgently.  
"Not now, Enjolras!" Her mother hissed, "I'll be back later." Before her father could object or even stop her, Guinevere's mother had freed herself and had fled down the stairs after Marius. Her father let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand over his face,  
"Foolish woman." He muttered under his breath before he turned and ran smack into Guinevere. The girl was knocked back dropping the book she had taken great pains to hide in the folds of her skirt. He father looked down on her with arms crossed,  
"What were you doing?" He asked,  
"Nothing," Guinevere said a touch to quickly.  
"Nothing? It looked like ease dropping to me," her father gave her a stern no-nonsense look, ashamed Guinevere bowed her head. "How many times must I tell you, Guinevere? A lady does not ease drop." Her father said helping her to her feet, Guinevere didn't feel much like a lady. The only reason she wasn't a Lady Of The Night like other girls her age was because her parents ensured it. She was just some gamine, whose father happened to come from a well-respected, rich family.  
"I'm sorry, Sir it won't happen again" Guinevere said trying to sound sincere instead of snide. Her father nodded and was about to go when he spotted Guinevere's book on the floor.  
"What's this?" He bent to pick up the book and Guinevere paled, "Shakespeare's sonnets,"  
"Jehan gave it to me." Guinevere said quickly, her father raised an eyebrow at her,  
"Shouldn't you be studying?" Enjolras asked,  
"My lessons aren't until Monday!" Guinevere protested,  
"Doesn't matter, school comes first, Guinevere you know that."  
"But-"  
"But nothing, study now. Shakespeare later." Utterly defeated Guinevere muttered a quick  
"Yes, Sir." And slunk to the back of the café to retrieve her school things. The café soon filtered out and Guinevere returned to her father's garret. She promptly retired without so much as a good night between them, the downpour of rain lulling Guinevere to sleep.

* * *

It was about midnight when Éponine knocked quietly on the door to Enjolras' garret. He answered promptly, took one look at Éponine's sodden form and said,  
"You look like you've had one hell of a night."  
"Hello to you as well, M'sieur Enjolras," Éponine shot back unamused. Enjolras rolled his eyes and let her in,  
"What happened?" Enjolras asked as he added wood to the fire and Éponine dried herself beside it.  
"Do you even want to know?"  
"Do I want to know why the mother of my child has shown up at my home, at midnight, soaking wet, after running off with Marius Pontmercy of all people after refusing to speak to me earlier this evening? Yes, I do." Enjolras said, Éponine shot him a dirty look,  
"The girl Marius was pinning over tonight was found." Éponine said plainly,  
"So?" Enjolras asked not seeing the issue,  
"It's Cosette." Enjolras' eyes widened  
"Not _the_ Cosette?" Éponine nodded,  
"The Lark herself I'm afraid." Éponine said rather forlornly,  
"Éponine, I'm so sorry." Enjolras said, though whether it was for the unrequited love of Marius, or the reappearance of The Lark in Éponine's life he wasn't sure. Éponine waved him off, not desiring his pity,  
"Never mind!" She said sharply. "You wished to speak to me?"  
"Yes," Enjolras said, "it's about Gwen."  
"What about Gwen?" Éponine asked, "is she all right? She isn't hurt is she?"  
"Relax Gwen is fine. I swear, Éponine you fuss like a mother hen!" Enjolras said, "I was just thinking that she's getting older..."  
"If you're worried about her courting I've all ready spoke to her about it." Éponine said,  
"I'm not worried about that, she's too young to court anyway." Éponine rolled her eyes,  
"She'll be sixteen this winter," she reminded him Enjolras groaned at the thought.

"It seems like just yesterday she was a toddler," He sighed, "Regardless, should we tell her the truth about… _them_?" Enjolras asked, the question had nagged him for years and while Guinevere miraculously looked like them enough to keep from asking questions, that wasn't enough to insure questions never did arise.

"No." Éponine's voice cracked like a whip,

"Éponine-"

"I don't want her looking for them, they tried to kill her, Enjolras!"

"Éponine, we don't know all the facts, we don't know why we found her like we did." Enjolras said,

"What parent leaves their beautiful new-born baby daughter abandoned in the snow unless they want her to die?" Éponine hissed the subject had always been touchy to her.

"Okay," Enjolras said, "we won't tell her, not now at least." Enjolras watched as Éponine relaxed instantly, "it's late," he continued, "get some rest, you can take Gwen home in the morning. You can have my bed," Éponine shook her head,

"You and I both know that bed is big enough for the two of us. C'mon," Enjolras didn't protest as Éponine dragged him to his bedroom and locked the door behind them, she looked through the drawers until she found one of Enjolras' shirts, suitable enough to sleep in, and changed out of her wet dress before crawling under the covers. Enjolras soon joined her. Éponine smiled up at him through the darkness, "Just like old times," she said as he lay down beside her.

"Yeah," Enjolras said, "old times." They hadn't shared a bed since Guinevere was small. Never romantically of coarse but they had slept in the same bed together.

"Goodnight, Éponine," Enjolras murmured as she rolled over onto her side away from him and his arms naturally wrapped around her waist. He noticed, not for the first time, how tiny her waist was. Before the pair drifted off to sleep.

_**I start school tomorrow wish me luck! Please Review!**_


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